


After Effects

by failwolfhale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Danny is protective, Derek gets his shit together, Derek is just really fucking tired, Derek listens to his inner wolf/conscience, M/M, Scott is MIA, Set after 2x09 Party Guessed, Stiles makes an impulse decision, apparently the wrong one, so Stiles goes to Danny, until it's not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/541260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failwolfhale/pseuds/failwolfhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Party Guessed, the pack talks, Stiles takes a chance, and things change between him and Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After Effects

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the ever so lovely [Kedreeva](http://kedreeva.tumblr.com/) ! 
> 
> Thanks, lovely! I owe ya one <3 (:

The pack is all there, huddled in the seats of the cold train car. Derek looks at all of them. Scott and Stiles are sitting together and he wonders where the heck Allison is and why he can’t smell her on his beta. He makes a mental note to talk to Scott because while he doesn’t give a shit about Scott’s relationship problems, he doesn’t need anything getting in the way of pack business at the moment. Erica is sitting between Boyd and Isaac in the back and Lydia is looking a bit less terrified and more sorrowful next to a broken window, staying clear of everyone. They’ve been talking animatedly of plans and theories as to what to do about Matt and wondering if he’s actually even human. They talk Peter Hale and why the hell he would just revive himself and run off without killing anyone. And the whole time he’s watching as Stiles stays silent and doesn’t offer up any crazy ideas or suggest killing Jackson again. Derek is wondering why the hell he’s worrying so much about this kid who drives him crazy and never ever shuts up, but he realizes that the lack of chatter is disconcerting.

As the chatter and theories and speculations die down, Derek goes through a mental checklist to make sure he covered all the bases:

They had the Matt discussion. Check.

They had the Lydia-is-no-longer-controlled-by-Peter-and-she-didn’t-even-realize-what-she-was-doing-at-the-moment-so-I-guess-we-won’t-kill-her-…-yet discussion. Check.

They talked about what they think Peter will do. Check.

They speculated if Peter might help them destroy the Kanima. Check.

They wondered aloud about if they kill the Kanima master and Jackson deals with his issues, will he change to a regular wolf. Check.

Erica added the idea that if they kill the master and Jackson stays a giant lizard, then maybe they could teach him how to control himself and help them anyway.

Derek goes through the list twice before being satisfied. He sighs heavily and rubs his eyes with his fingers before pulling his hands away, keeping his eyes shut and turning his back to them.

“Get lost all of you. Get some sleep,” he orders sternly.

He hears the sound of heavy footsteps and the sound of Isaac moving to the other end of the giant abandoned subway. Since Derek had taken him in and allowed him to stay, he began sleeping in one of the smaller, less damaged subway cars on the condition he do the grocery shopping. But there’s another sound that’s too familiar to Derek’s ears; Stiles’ heart beat. So Derek turns around slowly and fixes Stiles with an expectant look.

“Stiles,” Derek says pointedly. The boy’s golden brown eyes flicker to Derek’s face and away and he just shrugs. So Derek adds, “What are you still doing here?”

Stiles just shrugs again and avoids Derek’s eyes, his leg jiggling. Derek wants to growl at him to get out, maybe pick him up and carry him out physically if he refuses. He could just toss him out the window perhaps. 

_That would take energy, and you don’t have any of that,_ his wolf tells him.

_It’ll take energy to sit here and listen,_ he argues back.

_Not as much._

And before Derek knows what he’s doing he’s approaching the younger boy and sitting himself down beside him. Not having the energy to do much else, he leaves a few inches between them and just waits. He starts to doze off when Stiles finally speaks.

“The punch was spiked…” he states obviously and Derek gives him a _no-shit-sherlock_ look.

“Yea, I know,” Derek agrees, then adds, “That breed of monkshood is toxic even to humans. Everyone is lucky that it was only hallucinations and not something worse.”

Stiles stays quiet again and Derek wants to also, but for some reason finds himself asking what Stiles’ hallucination was, because he feels a tug in his gut that says it’s the reason for Stiles’ silence and lack of…pizzazz.

It’s a long few minutes and finally Stiles answers in a shaky voice and Derek hears the boy’s heart rate go up dramatically. “It was…my dad,” he manages to say. “He…he told me that…” His voice hitches a bit and it sounds like he’s choking on the words, so Derek finds his hand resting on Stiles back of its own accord as the boy leans forward on his knees. “He told me that it’s…my fault that my mom is dead. And…and that I’m killing him too.”

Stiles’ chin falls to his chest and he squeezes his eyes against the sting of the tears and tightening in his chest. He feels like he might have a panic attack and he refuses to have one of those here, now, with Derek watching.

Derek sighs. He knows the feeling of that crushing guilt. The feeling that it’s all your fault that the people you love are dead. The feeling that you can never do anything right and you just aren’t good enough. Because those are the emotions that he feels and smells and sees coming off of the kid. So he squeezes Stiles shoulder in hopes of soothing him.

He doesn’t know exactly what to say, really. He tries to think of things he wished people would have told him but comes up blank, because really what is there to say? And suddenly Derek is overcome with this incredible want to make Stiles believe and understand and just feel better. Because he would never wish the sort of burden that he’s carried every day since his family burned upon anyone else…especially not Stiles.

_Especially not Stiles? What the fuck?_ He thinks momentarily. When had he come to care about this annoying teenager who couldn’t stop talking ever?

And all of a sudden Stiles is on his feet yelling. Just yelling nonsense about how it’s his fault his dad got fired, and it’s his fault that his mother died, and it’s his fault that all of this fucking shit is happening to them. It’s all his fault. If he hadn’t dragged Scott out to look for Laura’s body then Scott wouldn’t have been bitten, Jackson wouldn’t have found out and there would be no Kanima and no psycho werewolf hunter family trying to kill them every other day. How nothing he does is good enough. How the one time he did something good - the ash wood circle - he had to undo it because his best friend was fucking dying. How none of the research he did meant shit. And how he’d never be good enough for anything.

And Derek sits and listens as the kid rants and raves. He hardly winces - but is extremely surprised - when Stiles manages to break apart one of the subway car’s seats and breaks all of the windows. Isaac appears in one of the doorways looking panicked but Derek sends him a look and he disappears. He hears the footsteps on the stairs as Isaac retreats to give them some space and privacy.

He forces himself up when Stiles finally sends his fist through the last remaining window and yelps like a terrified puppy at the tiny shards of glass now stuck in his fist. Stiles leans against the wall, sliding down it, tucking his knees to his chest, placing his forehead atop them and his hands on the back of his head as he sobs.

Derek is there to pull the boy into his arms, lets Stiles bury his head in his chest and just cry. Derek can tell by the faint lightening at the top of the stairs that the sun is just starting to rise.

Finally Stiles’ breathing evens out and his heart beat calms and he just sniffles a bit before pulling back. Both men’s breathing hitches as they realize the close proximity and before Derek can move away Stiles is there, pressing their lips together. Maybe it’s the emotional high; maybe it’s the lack of sleep; maybe it’s because he hasn’t gotten a chance to take his medication; or maybe it’s because he’s just so damn hurt and _needs_ it.

Derek just manages to hold back the groan of pleasure that his Alpha Wolf wants to let out and pushes Stiles away, glaring at the younger boy who suddenly looks scared and hurt. Derek wants nothing more than to erase the shock and sadness off his face and his wolf howls at him to pull the boy back and nuzzle into his neck. But he reins himself in and keeps the scowl on his face.

“I - I’m sorry,” Stiles apologizes, “I just…I thought…I don’t know what I thought…”

“Obviously,” Derek growls menacingly, though the anger was turned inward on himself for letting it happen at all. He wants to growl again and beg when Stiles pushes away from him, rising to his feet.

“I’m just gonna go. I’m sorry,” Stiles apologizes, fresh tears streaming down his face as Derek hears his heart falter and a sob catch in the young man’s throat. Again before Derek can do anything Stiles takes off running and it breaks Derek’s heart to know that _he_ was the cause of those awful sobs he can hear escaping the human’s throat as he leaves.

His wolf rears up inside of him, furious for letting the boy think that Derek’s reaction was his fault. Derek knows that he’s got feelings for the kid. Maybe he even had feelings for him before he was able to admit it. But he’s also painfully aware that he was sixteen and Kate was twenty two - the same ages he and Stiles are now. And he won’t do to Stiles what Kate did to him. He’s not going to ruin Stiles’ ability to trust and let people in. Because if Derek allowed himself to start something with Stiles, he knows that somewhere down the line he’s going to screw up or Stiles will realize just how damaged Derek really is and both of them will end up hurt. The last thing Derek wants is to hurt him.

_You’re already hurting him,_ his wolf growls angrily but he tries to rein it in.

He knows that he has to do something, explain to Stiles just right that it isn't that Derek isn't interested. It’s that he refuses to screw Stiles up like he was screwed up. That he wants to be with him and maybe even possibly _loves_ him. But he’s never been particularly eloquent or loquacious. He was never good at expressing how he feels or finding the right words to explain anything. And compared to this kid who wears his heart on his sleeve and uses SAT words like they were nothing and makes straight A’s in every subject, anything he could possibly say would never be good enough, never be enough to explain things in the way Stiles deserved.

_He also doesn’t deserve for you to pretend like this never happened,_ his wolf adds in a threatening growl.

And for once he listens because his wolf is right. Stiles deserves more from him than to just ignore the situation. Lord knows the kid is already dealing with enough pain and stress and heart break that he doesn’t need to pile this on top of that.

So Derek runs out of the subway station, letting his wolf senses take hold and following the scent that is distinctly _Stiles_. He follows it to Scott’s house but it stops at the front door and he can tell by the silence and lack of heartbeats that no one is home. He sniffs the air and picks Stiles’ scent up again a bit east; follows it for several blocks until he stops at a house he’d never been to before. He listens intently to heart beats and picks out Stiles’ immediately. Then scales the house and lurks outside the window. What he sees is heart breaking. It’s that kid that traced the text and told him the orange and blue striped shirt wasn’t his color. D…D…Dylan? No, _Danny_. That’s it.

Stiles is hunched over, leaning into the arms of the guy and letting out heart wrenching sobs. Neither boy is talking and Derek has to hold back a growl of jealousy because _he_ should be the one holding and comforting Stiles not this kid that hardly knew anything about anything; even though he has no right to think that way.

Derek climbs back down and checks his watch. It’s nearing seven in the morning as he approaches the front door and rings the bell. He hears Danny’s soft voice saying that he’d be right back, the slumping of Stiles’ body as he falls to the bed, and the soft sock covered footsteps. The door swings open and Danny’s face goes from open friendliness to closed off protectiveness.

“Can I help you?” Danny asks coldly, stepping out and pulling the door closed behind him.

“I need to talk to Stiles,” Derek states, glancing behind the kid at the door.

“He’s not here,” Danny tells him, crossing his arms over his chest and blocking any move Derek could make to get around him. Obviously he knows Derek’s name isn’t Miguel and that Derek isn’t actually Stiles’ cousin. Derek raises a brow and turns to stare pointedly at Stiles’ Jeep parked right there in the driveway. “He’s not up for visitors.”

“Please,” Derek grinds out through gritted teeth, “I just need to talk to him.”

“I’m sorry, but he…“ Danny starts to say before the door cracks open.

“Danny who…” Stiles trails off as his eyes widen upon seeing Derek, blinking rapidly.

“Stiles you should go back…” Danny tries to tell his friend but Stiles steps outside anyway.

“What are you doing here?” he asks his voice small as he eyes Derek warily almost as if expecting the werewolf to strike him.

“I want to talk,” Derek tells him, then glares at Danny pointedly, “Alone.”

“Stiles…” Danny tries to say but Stiles just shakes his head.

“Go in. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he says quietly, stepping closer to Derek and holding his arms over his chest, shivering slightly in the cold.

Danny shoots Derek a warning look before going inside the house and shutting the door. Derek immediately takes off his jacket and moves to drape it over Stiles’ shoulders but the younger boy takes a step back, scrubbing the back of his hand over his eyes.

“What do you want, Derek?” Stiles asks, and his voice sounds so small and broken Derek’s wolf rears up, urging him to nuzzle into the boy and apologize until he’s forgiven. Derek reins himself in.

“Just what I said…to talk,” Derek replies and holds out the coat, “I don’t want you to get a cold,” he offers by way of explanation.

Stiles eyes the jacket but eventually reaches out for it, carefully not touching Derek’s hand. Derek’s wolf purrs in contentment as he sees his jacket and smells his scent now surrounding Stiles.

_MINE!_ It growls happily.

“Well, talk then,” Stiles demands, but his voice is still small and frightened.

“I’m not mad at you,” Derek assures him quickly, scared that’s what the younger boy thinks.

“Well thank you, Derek! Thank you for not being mad at me for finally having the compulsiveness to do what I’ve wanted for a long time. Thank you for not being mad at me for running away after you _pushed_ me away and growled at me,” Stiles bites back sarcastically, angrily.

Derek flinches as if he’s just been hit. “You don’t understand,” he urges quietly.

“Oh, well by all means, enlighten me,” Stiles begs sarcastically.

Derek knows somewhere inside him not to take it personally, that Stiles’ sarcasm is just a defense mechanism, but it doesn’t stop the boy’s words from hurting him. Derek knows what he has to say next but it doesn’t make it any easier, even knowing that it’s only Stiles he’s talking to. His shoulders slump in defeat and he wraps his arms around himself as if trying to hold together the hole that had been punched into his gut; all the holes actually, as there are several - one for the loss of his family, one for the abandonment of Scott, one reserved just for Laura, one for Stiles thinking Derek didn’t care about him, one for unintentionally being forced to help bring Peter back, and the list goes on. He falls back a few steps until his back is pressed against his car and he’s staring at the ground.

“When I was your age, when I had just turned sixteen, I met a girl. She was beautiful and smart and funny and everything I seemed to want in someone else. She was a few years older than me but she convinced me to give her everything I had. I trusted her.” Derek pauses, breathing deeply and trying to stave off the oncoming panic that wanted to settle in his gut and drive him insane, but he plows on. “She was perfect in my eyes. She made me see things differently. She made me happy. She told me I was hers, and that she would never let anything hurt me. She told me she loved me and I believed her. How could I not?” Derek takes another deep breath and moves to go on but Stiles interrupted.

“Kate?” he asks quietly, and Derek nods solemnly.

“I was sixteen…she was twenty two…” Derek says in a voice that’s hardly above a whisper.

“But I’m…sixteen and you’re…” Stiles trails off.

“Twenty two,” Derek finishes for him, and looks up with pleading blue eyes, begging him to understand. “She messed me up, Stiles. She killed my family and she used me to do it. She’s the reason I am who I am. She’s the reason that my entire existence is so fucked up and I’m not going to do that to you.”

Stiles approaches Derek slowly taking small calculated steps until they’re just a foot apart, but Derek refuses to meet his eyes. “Derek…it’s not like you’re gonna burn my dad alive in my house. I know you aren’t some psychotic bitch and besides I never did anything to you except maybe annoy you to death with my babbling.” Stiles chuckles trying to lighten the mood and Derek glances up at the sound. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me like Kate. I trust you.”

Derek shakes his head and shrinks back, pressing himself against his car as Stiles takes another deliberate step closer, and does what all the wolves do; he nuzzles his nose up into Derek’s neck, his hands clutching at Derek’s shirt. Derek’s hands have a mind of their own as they move up to rest lightly at Stiles’ hip before he has the good sense to use his hands’ position to push the boy back.

“I won’t hurt you,” Derek grinds out through his teeth, “But you’re making it increasingly difficult for me to keep control.”

“Don’t push me away Derek. You deserve to be happy and I want to be the one to make you happy…just let me,” Stiles urges, pushing against Derek’s restraining hands and making it to his chest, nuzzling his nose against Derek’s shirt and neck.

“You deserve better,” Derek manages to say and Stiles can hear that the werewolf’s resolve is crumbling by the second.

“I think I deserve…someone who can protect me in this crazy ass world I live in, someone who can counter my excessive babbling, someone who can make my heart speed up,” Stiles whispers, reaching to grab one of Derek’s hands and place it over his heart, even though he knows Derek can hear the rapidity of it. He’s looking Derek in the eyes now and is sure that his next words will be the last blow he needs. “I think I deserve _you_.”

He feels Derek’s fingers tighten on his hips and takes the opportunity to push up and press their lips together again. This time Derek’s wolf won’t let him back away, instead drawing the younger boy nearer to his body. Stiles’ hands release his shirt and drift over his chest, down his stomach and around his back before he slips them into Derek’s back pockets and pulls him closer. Neither of them notice when Danny comes out to check on Stiles and smirks. And neither notice when Danny goes back inside to leave them to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop me a line and tell me what you think? :) 
> 
> xoxo Sarah


End file.
